<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Tears by curry-murderererer (QueenVulture0)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25384603">Tears</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenVulture0/pseuds/curry-murderererer'>curry-murderererer (QueenVulture0)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Maria Chronicles [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bottom (UK)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Autism Spectrum, Autistic Richie, Canon Era, Canon-Typical Behavior, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Meltdown, Self-Harm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:40:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>876</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25384603</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenVulture0/pseuds/curry-murderererer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eddie comes back home at night to find Richie having a meltdown from sensory overload.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Edward "Eddie" Elizabeth Hitler/Richard "Richie" Richard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Maria Chronicles [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tears</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first attempt at focusing on an autistic character in a long time, hence why I wrote it from another character's perspective. If you have any advice please share! :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Eddie got home later than he should have, but because of the construction across the street, he still made sure to actually do what Richie asked of him. Did he still stop at the pub on the way back? Absolutely he did. "Richie, I have the stuff for--" He stopped when he saw Richie wasn't in the room at all. Strange, but not always unexpected. Maybe he was masturbating. Another minute at maximum and he would be back downstairs doing whatever it is he does.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He left the vegetables on the table, saying a final goodbye to them before Richie completely ruined them tomorrow. The construction was still going on long into the night, and he didn't want to have to sleep with his flatmate tonight. He marched over to the window by the sofa and flung it open. "Oi! Who the bloody hell does 24-hour construction?! Go to bed!" Some of the workers paused, only to flick Vs at Eddie. He flicked two right back at them, then slammed the window shut. In that brief moment of quiet before they turned on the power tools again, he just barely heard the shower running upstairs. "Oh, shit…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He went out of the nearest door and ran upstairs. He called out his partner's name before he reached the bathroom, then knocked on the door. "Richie, say anything if you're alright!" He waited for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>piss off, </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm in the bloody shower,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but nothing in the slightest came back. Eddie groaned. "Why did they have to be watching us today?" He looked at you. "There’s no comedic plot, piss off!" He turned back to the door, grabbing his keys and using one to unlock the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once it opened, he saw Richie sitting on the floor. He was sobbing, both of his hands hitting the wall in a repetitive motion. The shower was running, the room was quite warm and dense with humidity, the light was bright. He'd probably been exposed to all the stimuli for far too long. He knew better than to let Richie shower after dark, he absolutely hated being wet for bed. It seemed like he meant to shower a while ago, but he never even got undressed. "Oh, Richie…" he said quietly, trying not to add to his senses. He shut off the water, then kneeled beside Richie. "Give me your hands," he whispered, reaching for the other's hands slowly. Once he had them in his grip, he rubbed his thumbs over the back of each hand. Richie started swinging their hands, continuing to stim somehow. Tears kept streaming down his face, and he shivered with every sound he made. "Come on, dreamboat, let's get you to my room." That's something he said verbatim during every meltdown. He made sure he selected a few phrases to match how he would comfort Richie, and that's what he used every time. He moved their hands closer together so he could manage both of Richie's hands with only one. He wrapped his free arm around Richie's side as soft as possible, only enough to guide him off the floor and down the hall to his own room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He opened the door and led him in, leaving the light off, and kicked the door shut behind them. He sat Richie down on the bed, letting him go so he could find earplugs. While he searched the drawer of his bedside table, Richie started hitting both sides of his head in the same repetitive fashion. Once Eddie found a new pair, he got on the bed beside Richie and put each one in for him. "There we are," he mumbled to himself, grabbing the other's hands once again. He kissed the back of each hand, then allowed Richie to start swinging. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie watched as everything started to calm down. His body-wracking sobs turned into slow cries and he was managing to take deep breaths of his own volition. The air being colder and clearer made it easier for him. Once he stopped stimming, Eddie let go of his hands. He carefully pulled Richie's head into his arms, wiping away his tears and petting his hair. He switched between the two, all while leaving little kisses on his forehead, until the crying ended. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie removed the earplugs himself. He hated how they felt, but they always worked to reduce noise stimulation until he was back under control. "Are you alright?" Eddie asked him, mindfully keeping his voice soft. This might have been the quietest room in the house, but those construction bastards could still be heard. Richie nodded in response, still not ready to talk. It pained Eddie to know there was only so much he could do about this situation. He couldn't spring a holiday on him, it would change his routine too suddenly and neither of them would enjoy it. Even if the whole point is to avoid the noise. "Why don't you sleep in my bed with me until this is over?" It was a sudden change, yes, but this was one Richie never disliked. Oftentimes he was the one to ask, but since Eddie offered he felt even better about it. He nodded again, finally looking at Eddie and smiling a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thank you…"</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>